


Call Me 'Mistress'

by anythingbutplatonic



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 4x07, Brotherhood, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Light BDSM, Missing Scene Fic, d/s relationship dynamics, episode reaction fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 05:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5279261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutplatonic/pseuds/anythingbutplatonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An accidental slip-of-the-tongue makes Felicity wonder what it would be like to take control. </p><p>Episode reaction/missing scene fic for 4x07 "Brotherhood".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call Me 'Mistress'

 She hadn’t meant to say it. 

It had just....slipped out. 

_“This has to be a better way than how you usually spend your evenings....dressing in leather and tying people up.”_

Which had to be one of the worst possible things to say at a charity benefit being held in recognition of the hard work and dedication of the Star City Police Department, while she was in a fancy blue dress and surrounded by very important people and there as the  _girlfriend of a Mayoral candidate_.

So. Not one of her best moments. 

Felicity hadn’t missed the way Oliver’s eyes had flickered from her to their surroundings, lips pressed in a firm line to keep from replying - or laughing - and she’d busied herself with the lapels of his suit jacket, making sure they lay flat against his ( _very hard, very muscular_ ,  _oh my God this entire train of thought was so incredibly inappropriate_ ) chest, if only to keep from having to look him directly in the eye. 

Because she didn’t know what she might find there. 

True, she had  _meant_  that being at a lavish campaign fundraiser surrounded by Star City bigwigs was better than patrolling the city at night as its resident vigilante - a lot less risk of serious injury this way (and a lot less worrying for her, as she didn’t have to deal with the knot of anxiety in her stomach that always showed up when Oliver was out in the field) - but there had been a double meaning in her words that made her skin prickle under her dress and something akin to the kind of heat she only saw when they made love flash in Oliver’s eyes. 

They hadn’t talked about...anything like that. Sex-wise, that is. The sex they had was amazing, it always was, and Felicity was by  _no_  means discontented with the physical aspect of their relationship. And judging by the kinds of noises Oliver made whenever they were in bed together, he definitely wasn’t, either.

But when Oliver drifted off to make small-talk with some of the police officers in attendance, leaving Felicity to her own devices, she started to think. 

Maybe it  _would_  be fun to....change things up. Try something new. 

_Take control._

That last thought made her blood run hot under her skin, a flush spreading from her cheeks to her chest as she hastily gulped down the glass of wine she’d purchased at the bar, hoping that anyone watching would think the bright colour in her cheeks was from the alcohol and not because she’d been thinking of...well,  _that_.

She shouldn’t be thinking about such things. Not here, when it was so important to Oliver that he make a good impression. He’d been so nervous earlier, back at the loft, and she’d kissed her way across his forehead, down the bridge of his nose, both cheeks, his jaw and most of his throat before he’d finally relaxed, pulling away from her in his half-buttoned shirt with a lazy smile and much less tension in his shoulders. Being in the limelight was something he was still re-adjusting to, and she knew how hard he was trying...

But still. The thought was there, now, at the back of her mind, and she couldn’t keep it at bay, even when Laurel came up to her at the bar to join her for a drink - Felicity had more wine, Laurel had plain water with lemon - and lament the fact that she was a fish out of water, here, too, among the rich and powerful of Star City.

What would it be like, if she took control? How would Oliver react? How would it feel, to have him completely at her mercy, and him so willing to do whatever she asked of him? 

What would that be like?

She imagined it would be very, very enjoyable. 

For _both_  of them.

Felicity finished her second glass of wine, needing the liquid courage for the idea brewing in her mind, and excused herself from the bar to go in search of Oliver, looking for his familiar broad shoulders among the gathered attendees. She navigated business people and civil servants and police officers with their wives as she made her way through the throng, feeling herself heat from the inside out as anticipation and nerves built within her.

He saw her before she saw him, and his hand was warm and gentle on the small of her back before she could speak, his expression soft but his posture stiff. 

“I just met Damien Darhk,” he murmured into her ear, low enough that the others around them couldn’t hear. “He offered to help me with my campaign.”

At that, Felicity’s whole body tensed, and she was hyper-aware of him next to her, the warmth of his body, the sharp lines of the tuxedo he wore, his very presence at her side in the room that suddenly felt too close and too small for her liking. 

Her throat  suddenly dry, Felicity asked, “What did he say?”

“That I shouldn’t bother trying to save the Bay. And then he threatened me. Said that if I chose not to accept his offer to work with him, I would no longer be running for Mayor unopposed.” 

“Wow, what an asshole,” Felicity snorted - but pressed herself closer to Oliver regardless, as if she could shield him from whatever Darhk may have planned. Not that she was expecting him to jump out from behind Prosecutor Morrison and his wife, who were nearby, and try to kill them right there and then. But it couldn’t hurt to say close. 

Still, though he was nonchalant, she could tell that Oliver was rattled by his encounter with Darhk. He was standing a little too stiffly, his jaw just a little too set, for him to be fully comfortable with the exchange he had just had with the head of HIVE. 

Without really thinking, Felicity took Oliver’s free hand in hers and started to lead him away from the main gathering, where it was quieter and there were fewer people about, away from the chatter and noise of the crowd and into someplace where they could just...be alone. 

She needed him alone. 

Eventually, she found an empty corridor, where it was almost completely silent. 

“This is better,” she said softly, indicating the space around them. 

When Oliver opened his mouth to express his confusion as to why she had brought them here, she silenced him by kissing him hard, pressing the full length of her body against his and biting lightly at his bottom lip as she let the tip of her tongue brush over the inside of his mouth. 

She felt him grip her waist tight as his groan vibrated through her lips and tongue and down to her chest, where a flower of heat was starting to bloom and spread, and she slid one knee between his legs to press against him as his hands fisted in her dress, bunching the material and exposing the backs of her legs to the chilled air of the corridor. 

When they pulled apart, Oliver was giving her that same lazy smile he had earlier.

“What was that for?” he asked, his voice slightly hoarse, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. 

_Here goes nothing._

Felicity slid her palms from his chest to his stomach, resting against the solid muscle she could feel through his shirt. 

“I didn’t say you could ask any questions, did I?” she said coyly, biting on her bottom lip, watching Oliver’s face carefully. 

“Um,” he croaked, swallowing visibly, “no?”

“No, I didn’t,” Felicity agreed, shaking her head to emphasize the point. She let her hands wander lower, close to the top of his pants, teasing the material there with light fingers. “And if you want to forget all about Damien Darhk, you will do exactly as I say for the rest of the night. Can you do that?”

Realization dawned on him as soon as the question was out of her mouth; she watched his eyes darken, his jaw drop ever so slightly, and felt the way his grip on her waist faltered, fingers twitching in the deep blue material as the meaning of her words resonated. 

"I need to hear you agree,” Felicity prompted, toying with the base of the suspenders he wore, rubbing her thumb along the rough material. “I can’t do anything unless you say I can.”

“What-whatever you want,” Oliver replied, stumbling over his words, “I’ll do it.”

“That’s good,” Felicity smiled, voice firm but gentle. Then she let it drop, low and sultry, as she made sure her next words hit their mark. “You can start by calling me ‘Mistress’”.

The look on Oliver’s face was enough to make the blood rush to her core, and his. 

By the time they reached the loft, Damien Darhk was nothing but a figment of their imagination. 

And by the time they were both spent, panting and loose-limbed with the sheets wrapped around their legs, they’d almost forgotten that they’d ever heard of an organization called HIVE. 

Felicity thought she should take control more often. 


End file.
